


More Than an Apprentice: A Jingle Jangle AU

by PhiladelphiaBurke



Category: Jingle Jangle: A Christmas Journey (2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Backstory, Character Development, Character Study, F/M, Jeronicus isn't perfect and Gustafson needs more depth, Robots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27804487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhiladelphiaBurke/pseuds/PhiladelphiaBurke
Summary: For such an important character, Gustafson doesn't get a lot of screen time. This is my attempt at an AU where both he and Jeronicus Jangle are more than one-dimensional good guy and bad guy. Heavy AU, more serious themes about creating artificial life, you name it.
Relationships: Gustafson/Original Female Character
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my friend "Meg", who watched this movie with me and said there should be fanfic. She's even met Keegan-Michael Key in real life and said he was really nice, so in her honor, I decided to write a more nuanced part for this gifted actor.

Gregory Gustafson remembered the first day he had come to Jangles and Things. He had been only thirteen, eager to learn the art of toymaking and mechanical engineering. Now, six years had passed, and he was no closer to his dreams. His one truly great idea kept running into technical problems, and worst of all, Mr. Jangle wasn’t teaching him the craft so much as he was handing menial jobs off. Sometimes Gregory found himself sweeping the store and doing laundry, rather than working on toys and other mechanical marvels. Jeronicus’s wife Joanne and daughter Jessica often seemed to forget he was there. Nowhere had this been more of a stark reality than on the day Jeronicus finished his life’s work, the living automaton known as Don Juan Diego.

While the family had gone downstairs to celebrate Jeronicus’s new invention, Gregory went over to the table and picked up the little figure of Don Juan, who had just insulted him. “If you were limited to one bath a week, you’d smell too,” he sternly told the little man. He wasn’t a toy, Gregory reasoned, not really- if this creation could feel, think and even smell.

‘Once a week?” the little man said in disbelief. “Who decided that? It’s not helping you one bit!”

“My boss,” Gregory explained. “He says it’s too much work for him and his family to heat up water and bring it to me more than once a week- there’s a toilet up here, but no bathtub. I understand why he favors them, of course, but they bathe twice a week, like most people.” He put Don Juan down on the counter and glumly looked over at his little bed in the corner of the workshop. He’d never had much to his name, but at least at home he’d had a real bedroom, even if it was shared with his two brothers. But he was snapped out of his memories by Don Juan, who was complaining again and yelling loudly about why anyone would dare to make millions of copies of one so unique as him.

“Personally,” Gregory said flatly, “I think one of you is _more_ than enough.”

“Thank you, you are very kind,” the little man said as the hidden barb whooshed over his head. “Even if you smell terrible!”

“I didn’t think you’d really be alive, though,” the apprentice said. “I just thought you’d move and talk in a lifelike way, not that you would have free will. Can you really do whatever you want?”

The little matador rudely stuck his tongue out at Gregory. “Does that answer your question?”

Gregory sighed. “I’ll take that as a yes. I don’t think the professor was expecting you’d have free will either, honestly. Can you tell me, what is that? The substance that brought you to life?”

To Gregory’s shock, the little man proudly opened his metal chest, and there was a green glow lighting up the gears inside. “I don’t know what it is called, but I feel it inside me,” Don Juan said. “It vibrates inside my chest, always.”

“Like a heartbeat,” Gregory whispered. He looked over at the special package Jeronicus had received. Whatever was inside that vial was something very powerful, possibly even dangerous. He wondered if his mentor had considered the implications of actually creating another form of life.

Right on cue, Jeronicus bounded into the workshop, carrying a tray that held a plate of roast turkey and vegetables, a small gift-wrapped box, and a mug of cider. “We didn’t forget you, Gustafson!” he said. “Here’s your share of the victory dinner, my boy!”

“Professor,” Gregory said, his brow knitting in concern as he doffed his cap. “Please, I don’t ask for much. But I always believed you would make this your greatest creation. And you have,” he said, gesturing to Don Juan. The little man bowed proudly, but before he could call attention to himself, Jeronicus said:

“Thank you! Of course, your faith in me has been invaluable.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Gregory said. He wanted to stomp his foot in frustration. Just like his creation, Jeronicus was overlooking him! “Sir, with all due respect, you never let me eat with you and your family, and I did a lot of work around the shop so you could concentrate on bringing Don Juan to life. Are you ashamed of me?”

Jeronicus slammed the tray down on his table and frowned. “Is this about your pet project? I’ve told you, Don Juan takes precedence! I don’t always have time to micromanage you, Gustafson-”

“My name is _Gregory,_ ” the young man cried. “If you want people to believe you’re so kind and wonderful, you should stop treating me like a servant and start treating me like you’re really my mentor!”

“That’s quite enough!” Jeronicus replied, shaking a finger.

Don Juan began laughing at the young apprentice, but Gustafson said: “What are you laughing about? You’re just the professor’s servant too, Don Juan. He's using you.”

Don Juan looked over at his creator. “Professor, is this true? Do you think so little of Don Juan?”

Gregory took this chance and, while the professor and Don Juan confronted one another, he picked up the tiny brass vial and pocketed it.

“You are meant to be a toy,” Jeronicus said condescendingly. “That’s how I created you, so I’m not sure why you object to being copied. I meant for you to be fun and charming, but now I think I must have made a few mistakes in programming your personality. We need you to be kinder, so parents won’t object to buying the toy…” He put his goggles on and picked up a screwdriver, and the mechanical man let out a scream of alarm.

“Mistake? Don Juan is NO mistake!” the little man said, scampering away. “You have no right to change me, I am not your servant! He is, the one who smells!”

“See?” Gregory sneered. But even as he said, it, the jibe didn’t make him feel any better. It make him realize just how short-sighted his mentor was. Jeronicus had practically given birth to another child, but all he could think of was how to change his (admittedly obnoxious) creation.

“Get back here,” Jeronicus cried as Don Juan tried to run away. While the professor’s back was turned, Gregory noticed the gift box on the dinner tray had a green ribbon- everyone knew green was his favorite color, and the Jangles often teased him about wearing it. He realized the box was for him and tore it open. There was the missing part for his creation!

“Professor,” Gregory cried, “Is this it? I was going to work on one myself, but I could never figure out how to get it to rotate quickly enough to keep the toy in midair….”

“Not now, Gustafson!” There was a loud CLUNK from somewhere on the other side of the workshop. Gregory looked up, realizing this had been a bad time. He really did need to work on when he asked his questions….he saw that the professor had trapped Don Juan by slamming a large bell jar over him, as if the little man were a flower or butterfly. Don Juan was beating against the glass with his metal fists, and Jeronicus was grimacing.

“You have millions of other ideas!” Don Juan shrieked, his voice muffled by the glass. “Use them for glory, not Don Juan!”

“That’s enough!” the inventor said. “You’ll stay there until I figure out how to reprogram you.”

“He still has free will,” Gregory said softly. “He shouldn’t be given to a child, but maybe we- er, you and your daughter?- could make a different type of doll…you could just let him go.”

“To do what?” Jeronicus snapped. He regarded his progeny and shook his head. “No, I have to take out what’s inside him and start over.”

“Wouldn’t that be murder, if his original self was wiped away? I mean, he’s not terribly nice, but…”

“You know what your problem is, Gustafson?” Jeronicus said, stepping closer and backing his apprentice against the nearby desk. “You know why you’ll never get ahead? You lack belief. You’ll never get anywhere with all those doubts.”

“Just because you believe something is right, doesn’t make it so!” Gregory cried. But Jeronicus couldn’t respond- Don Juan had just cracked the glass with his little fists, and the professor had run over to subdue his creation.

In that moment, Gregory got an idea. He and Don Juan were both being used, they were almost kindred spirits. If he hung around here, Jeronicus might get fed up with him and discard Gustafson for someone new too. ‘Millions of other ideas,’ Don Juan had said. The professor’s idea journal was sitting right on a nearby countertop. He could take it while the professor was distracted, and use the power the professor had already corrupted for his own gain. _It will be wrong,_ he knew. _It will be stealing. But if I just use one idea, and that green stuff, until I make enough money to get my own work out to the public, it’ll be worth it. I bet I could even improve on his work, after I study and learn from it! Green…it’s like it was meant for me._ Gregory walked over to his meager bed, and picked his satchel up off the floor. He slung it over his arm. Then the apprentice stole over to the counter with the journal and grabbed the book. Once it was stuck under his arm, he ran out the workshop door.

As he left, he heard Don Juan scream, and Jeronicus calling: “Gustafson! Come back!” But for the first time in his life, Gregory Gustafson was not there to answer when Mr. Jangle called. He was off to create a life of his own.

As Gregory hailed a cab to take him out of the village of Cobbelton and into the gleaming city of Tremayne, he was spotted by none other than Jessica Jangle, who was running home with a white parcel in her hads. “Gustafson?” she whispered, looking at the coach he was preparing to board. “What are you doing? Mom told me to run to the bakery and get a sweet potato pie for Daddy’s celebration. I was gonna ask if you could eat with us. Are you going someplace?”

“Jessica, forget it,” he said coldly. “Your parents never wanted me around in the first place.” He threw his satchel into the cab and entered, giving the driver the address of the finest toyshop in Tremayne, and Jangles and Things’ main competitor: “C.J.’s Emporium of Toys and Games, 1317 Willow Court. And hurry!”

‘Gustafson, why are you going there?” Jessica cried. But it was too late- the cab was already off like a shot, the horses clattering away without another glance. At that moment, her father ran outside.

“Stop that cab!” Jeronicus cried. “That man stole the blueprints for all my inventions!” But the cab kept right on, and Jessica and he both knew things were already over. She couldn’t bring herself to tell her father what she’d heard: she just dropped the pie and began to sob, apologizing over and over to Jeronicus. 

"Daddy, I tried to stop him," she begged. Her eyes were teary behind the new goggles her father had given her. "I did." 

"I know," her father said quietly. Don Juan's disembodied head was still in his hand, unscrewed minutes ago. Jeronicus swore under his breath and went back inside the store, which seemed cold and lonely now. Joanne Jangle, who had heard some of the commotion as her husband left the shop, ran outside to tend to her daughter. 

"Come inside, honey," she said as she draped a shawl around Jessica's shoulders. "It's cold out. We don't want you to get sick..."

"I dropped the pie," she wheezed, her breath leaving her mouth in a white puff.

"It's ok," her mother said, patting her daughter's curly hair. "Everything's going to be all right, I promise. Daddy will fix his new toy up, and we'll be on to even bigger and better things." 


	2. TEN YEARS LATER

Joanne fell ill and passed away about four years after Gustafson left. But Jeronicus had some solace in spite of the loss of his journal: The inventor had been able to reprogram Don Juan’s head and create a friendly, docile toy who did whatever they were told to do. However, the rare element that brought Don Juan to life proved impractical for mass-production. Joanne soon calculated that millions of those toys would cost an inordinate amount of money, one the Jangles could never make back.

So while Jessica went to boarding school, her parents toured the country with the ‘new and improved’ mechanical man as a vaudeville act for three years, until Joanne's death. After each show, the Jangles sold toys to the audience that were almost as remarkable- although none of those playthings could think or feel. 

These promotions had made Jeronicus a wealthy man…and even though he knew Gustafson had stolen his inventions, Jeronicus couldn’t prove that any of the plans were his- especially since Gustafson had often helped him with drafting up the blueprints. Both of their handwriting was all over the pages, and despite his talents, Jeronicus didn’t have the legal expertise to successfully patent any of his inventions. On the advice of his daughter (after she returned from her studies in Engineering at Horne University) he enlisted a brilliant young lawyer by the name of Kyoko Kagura.* Now, ten years after that first loss, all his future inventions would be made in partnership with his daughter and be protected by the Royal Patent Office, under Ms. Kagura’s guidance.

As for Gustafson…Ms. Kagura pointed out that his company, Gustafson Unlimited, had only created one invention that could be directly traced back to his days at the shop, the Whirly Twirly. And although Jeronicus had given him the missing part, the design had been Gustafson’s own from day one. The former apprentice was now even wealthier and more eminent than Jeronicus Jangle himself, but he had expanded his enterprise to mechanical creations of all kinds.

The key to it all had not ONLY been Jeronicus’s designs, but the rare element delivered to him on the day of Don Juan’s birth. An unstable substance that had been able to put life into an inanimate toy: Zacharium. It seemed to imbue technology with unpredictable energy, and the most renowned royal scientists were not even close to discovering how it worked. That was why the small amount Jeronicus had ordered cost so much- anyone could order the element and study it, for the right price. But it took a truly gifted engineer to make use of it. If an average person poured it on, say, a telephone or an adding machine, nothing would happen. “It works like blood in the human body,” Jessica had said. “Not like magic.”

“Ms. Kagura,” Jeronicus said at their last meeting before Chiristmas, “isn’t there anything we can do now that my inventions are patented? Gustafson says he’s working on a new project that he will announce to the public on Christmas Eve. This is our chance to expose him!” The inventor peered down at the young woman through his little round spectacles, but she only shook her head.

“Zacharium is a rare and unstable element, but it’s not copyrighted by either one of you,” said Ms. Kagura, gathering her papers back into her briefcase as a crestfallen Jessica looked over at her. “I’m afraid you have no claim on Mr. Gustafson using it in his products.”

“But he wouldn’t be able to create any of these ‘thinking’ machines without me!” Jeronicus said. “Anyone could see that!”

But the young woman looked the professor squarely in the eye, paying no mind to his imposing height. She said: “Mr. Jangle, as your solicitor, I think going up against such a powerful company would ruin your toy business. Think of what it would be like if you lost everything- your home, your family, your creations. Your good name.”

“She’s right, Daddy,” Jessica said, toying with the long braid that curled over her shoulder.

Jeronicus sighed. He knew his life would be miserable indeed without his daughter or his creations. “Yes. So close to my wedding, that would be a bad idea.”

“Is that all you can think of?” Jessica asked. Now Ms. Kagura was looking over at the younger inventor with concern, seeing how Jessica’s entire manner changed to go on the offense.

“Jessica,” Kyoko asked, “should I leave?”

“No,” Jessica said, squeezing the young woman’s long-fingered hand. She looked up reverently at Kyoko, who dwarfed her own petite figure. “You know all my secrets, you have every right to be here.”

Jeronicus and Jessica had missed Joanne terribly for years, but it was only now that he had decided to remarry. His intended, Jeneva Johnston, was the widowed local postwoman. She and her three nephews had moved into the Jangle mansion for the week before the wedding- although Jeneva and Jeronicus were not yet living as man and wife.

“Don’t try and pick a fight with me about your stepmother,” Jeronicus warned. “She’s as much a part of this family as you.”

“You have no right to say that!” his daughter said. “She’s not my stepmother yet, anyway. I’m going out, I’ll be back later.” She turned and left, and Jeronicus was surprised to see Ms. Kagura following her.

“I’ll go and talk to her,” his laywer promised. Jeronicus nodded- the two women were good friends. Perhaps Kyoko could reason with her.

“Jess,” Kyoko said, “are you all right?” Unless she was in court, Kyoko always wore bloomers and boots with no heels, a fashion that was considered very daring in Cobbleton. The outfit let her easily catch up to her shorter companion, who was lifting her long skirts. “I know how you feel about your stepmother.”

“I don’t think I can tell Father about us today,” Jessica said sadly. “He’s not in the mood to listen, not even with you.”

“I don’t think your father is a bigoted man,” Kyoko replied. She drew Jessica close and embraced her. “Things have changed so much- when he was a boy, people would have been scandalized by a female inventor or lawyer, and yet here we are.”

“He wants grandchildren,” she said softly. “And telling him we want to adopt won’t help…he wants someone who will carry his gift to see the impossible. He’s told me so, more than once.”

“We should tell him together,” Kyoko said earnestly.

“But we need to be sure this is the right time,” Jessica replied. “All he can think about is his marriage and this lawsuit he wants against Gustaf-”

“Leave the legal advice to me,” Kyoko said, and kissed Jessica gently on her forehead. “And try to get along with your stepmother- that will get your father on your side.”

“She sticks her nose into everything,” Jessica groaned. “She even reads people’s mail before delivering it!”

‘Maybe she’ll be able to retire and slow down, once she gets married,” Kyoko said wryly.

“No good,” Jessica said. “She’d probably start reading my journal.”

* * *

That little vial of ‘green stuff’ had made Gregory of the wealthiest men in the country, and one of the most influential as well. He had begun by experimenting with Zacharium on simple machines such as toy trains, then breaking those machines down as much as he could without losing any of the element. Sales of the Whirly Twirly had financed his experiments and finally, he introduced something he called a “computing data engine,” to replace library card catalogues. “Soon,” he’d said to crowds of eager buyers and reporters, “all the information in a library will be able to be stored in an engine like this one, thanks to Zacharium. But it’s highly unstable and should only be used in small amounts.” This innovation drummed up so much interest that Gustafson was able to finance and create other items using small amounts of Zacharium, including a portable audio recording device and a typewriter that took dictation and moved by itself. Despite secretaries complaining that the second project would put them out of a job, people from his country and far beyond loved the items and begged for more. Finally, he had the fame and recognition he had always been searching for!

And still, Gregory thought ruefully, he was as lonely as ever. The newly respected inventor never let anyone get close to him. He knew how easy it was to betray a friend in order to move ahead- he’d done it himself! He had neither friends nor enemies, just people on his payroll and people looking to outdo him. But perhaps that wouldn’t be true much longer. He was going to try and succeed where Jeronicus had failed.

Now that he was coming into his prime as an inventor, Gustafson wanted to triumph where Jeronicus Jangle had failed. “Reine, could you write down what I’m saying? I want to address the public tomorrow, and I have a lot of thoughts,” he asked his secretary. He could have used one of his own machines for dictation, but knew what it was like to be young and down on one's luck. Besides, Reine never stumbled over homophones like "eye" and "I". 

Reine nodded and went over to their typewriter, putting on a pair of tortoise-shell spectacles. “Of course, sir….this is about your secret project, though, isn’t it?”

Gustafson smiled. “How long have we known each other? I know I can trust you.”

“Is it in the book you keep in your safe?” Reine asked. Gustafson’s face immediately became a scowl, and Reine blushed all the way to the tips of their curly red hair. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I know that’s none of my business.”

“Just…don’t mention that again,” Gustafson said sharply. “No, the plans are not there. I drew up some new ones, because this…medium will be much more complex. Are you ready?” Reine nodded. “Very good. So I’ll start with….everyone, thank you for coming. You know how Zachairum has changed our lives for the better over the past ten years. But you understand its expense, and its instability, make it somewhat impractical for most items. Even…interactive toys, the kind that can say your child’s name and move by themselves, use a diluted form of this element. But what if I told you that a highly concentrated dose, in a machine as complex as the human body itself, would give that machine a life of its own?”

“Sir?” Reine whispered. “Is that right? You want to make a machine that can think, not just move?”

Gustafson nodded. “Yes, it is.”

Reine looked excited, then blushed again, yanking their high collar up to their chin. “It does sound terribly exciting, but- blazes, sir, people might not like this.”

“I know,” Gustafson said quietly. “But it’s a chance I have to take. I know what _not_ to do…so maybe I can learn from someone else’s mistakes.”

* * *

Meanwhile, in the gardens of Jeronicus Jangle’s home, another drama was unfolding. “Jessica, don’t pretend you haven’t been avoiding me,” Jeneva said in her clipped Northern accent. “The wedding’s a week away, and you’re behaving like a spoiled child.”

“You wore my father down to get him to marry you,” Jessica said. “You touched him without his consent, you wouldn’t use his preferred name. You can’t take no for an answer!”

In a very dramatic display of outrage, Jeneva put her hand to her chest and gasped. “Boys, did you hear what she said to your poor Auntie?”

“Disgraceful,” said Edwin, the oldest of Jeneva’s nephews, who was in the process of growing a full beard.

“She’s so disrespectful,” said Elwood, who was the youngest of the group and clean-shaven.

“I think you did pester Uncle Jerry sometimes, Auntie, but you both need to calm down,” said Euripides. He was the middle child among his brothers, and wore a distinctive, large pair of glasses.

“You’re not helping, Rip,” Jeneva said. She frowned at her nephew and turned back to Jessica. “I brought your father out of his shell. He was a seriously depressed person.”

“He was depressed and I wanted him to meet someone. But telling someone to smile isn’t the same as helping them. If things were different- if you were a man and he was a woman- people wouldn’t be celebrating your marriage. They’d be horrified!” Jessica shouted.

Jeneva shouted that she couldn’t take one minute more of this treatment, and Elwood and Edwin ushered her back into the house. Only Rip stayed behind, but Jessica didn’t mind at all.

“Thanks for throwing me a bone, Rip,” she said, sinking down onto a garden bench.

“My aunt isn’t a very patient person, everyone knows that,” he said, plopping down next to her. “But she was very kind to look after my brothers and I, after our parents died. You really ought to give her a chance.” He looked around and whispered: “Is your girlfriend here? The solicitor?”

“Kyoko had to leave…” Jessica frowned at Rip, craning her head up to look at him. “Hey, when you say ‘girlfriend’, do you just mean a friend? People aren’t supposed to say that if they don’t mean-”

Rip smiled reassuringly at her. “I think I used the term correctly. It’s ok, Jessica, we don’t mind at all.”

“I don’t know if your aunt would think it was okay,” Jessica mumbled."My father won't be too happy when he realizes I can't have kids with Kyoko..." 

“Leave Auntie to me, and she will,” Rip said. “She might surprise you. But honestly, I do understand where you’re coming from about your father. If I never met my aunt I would think she’s a bit much. Once, I caught her reading my diary.”

“I don’t want her to find mine,” Jessica mumbled. “That’s I won’t be staying long after the wedding.”

“But this is your home,” Rip said. “Are you and Kyoko going somewhere?”

“Yes,” Jessica said excitedly, “If I can get the job I want. Gustafson Unlimited is looking for a team of the best engineers in the world, for their new project.”

“Your father’s old apprentice? My aunt tells me there’s a lot of bad blood there…”

“She should learn to keep secrets!” Jessica cried, rising from her bench. “Well, if Mr. Gustafson hires me, I’ll get to the bottom of my father’s missing notebook…and show my father just how much he needs me.”

“This plan doesn’t sound too safe,” Rip said.

“I know,” Jessica said. “That’s why your aunt wouldn’t be likely to follow me and sabotage things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zacharium* is named after the short story "Master Zacharius" by Jules Verne. Good if you like this movie's aesthetic. 
> 
> I say Mrs. Johnston has a "northern" accent because the system of government/country in this film is a little uncertain, I'm not sure why some characters (other than those being the actors' real voices) sound British and some sound American. So in-universe, it's a regional accent. And yes, her nephews are the three backup guys who appear during her song.


End file.
